The Game of Roulette
by 7saix-puppy7
Summary: Another one is brought in as he left. You look at the man, no, you really couldn't call him a man, more of a boy. You could even call him a kid. It was just a game.


The Game of Roulette

You stare at the wall in front of you. Nothing has changed. You have been here for days. Doing nothing but sitting and waiting. He tells you to talk, but you only wait and listen. They tried way to get you to talk, but you stay quiet.

He hasn't come today. You wonder why. Will your back not get whipped? Your head stay above the hot and cold water? Will you go a day without having to see your blood splatter on the ground? You look up from you binding. They did it tight. Leather straps buckling you to a hard chair.

The door squeals open and you here footsteps. You aren't scared, fear won't rise in you. No shiver of pain runs through your body. He is new. The footsteps are different, but the man's are heard to.

He tells you to look up and you obey. His voice is deep and has authority. A revolver at his waist. He looks down at you. You look up at him. A grin is placed on his lips. He thinks he's won. That he has already beat you. You smirk at him showing that you haven't lost. That you still had fighting spirit in you.

He bends down and un-straps your feet from the chair. You reflexively twist your ankles. He stands up and a frown is on his face. He gestures for you to stand. You do as you are told and followed him out of the room. He leads you by a strap that is attached to the straps that bind you.

You stare at his back. You showed no fear. The man was good. He knew how to defeat you. He had done things like this before. When pain didn't work, there was only one choice. Get into their mind. Poison their mind until they break. You close your eyes.

A silent prayer goes through your mind. You don't know why you thought of it, just that you did. He stops at a door and turns to you. You sense his stare and carefully open your eyes. Another smirk of victory comes across his face as someone opens the door.

You squint your eyes as light showers you. It pains you because of the time you had to stay in the darkness of the cell room. He forces you to walk. Noises fill your ears. Talking and cheering. They were new to you. The days you had spent in the room, you had only heard questions, nothing else.

They lead you to a table, you make no objection. Just look down at the man who was sitting there with an emotionless expression. You are told the sit and you do. The man continues to watch you. Something wet on the seat catches your attention.

A light dripping noise makes you look down. Red liquid trailed down the side of the chair, splattering on the floor and in puddles. You can feel the dried blood on your forehead begin to burn. The man continued to grin.

You felt them undo your straps. The quickly redid all but you right hand. You look at the table in front of you. The crowd rises in volume as the man who had led you here puts his revolver on the table. The man on the other side begins to laugh hysterically.

You stare at the gun curiously. The revolver was opened and the man dropped out five bullets, keeping one in. He closed the compartment and spun it till the machine had stopped. You twitched slightly at the realization of what was happening.

"Ne, boy." you look at the man with your old expression. He continues to grin. "I've been here since the beginning of the game. I've never lost."

You look at the gun that was placed on the table before you. The man looks at you and grins again. Shall we play a little game? He whispers the words into your ear. A small shiver runs down your spine. He grins at this and places the gun in your hand.

You slowly bring the revolver to your temple. You stare at the man across the table. His face shows disappointment at not being able to go first; but his eyes are hungry. They tell you to die; they tell you that he wants you to die. You feel a smile pull at the corners of your mouth. You pull the trigger.

Nothing happens and you sigh in relief. The gun is taken from your hand and given to the other person. Sweat gathers on his face. He quickly put the gun to his head and shot. He was still there.

He handed the gun to the man who had brought you here and he hands it to you. You're reluctant to use it this time. Your hand shakes as you stare at the sleek cold metal. One time was being lucky, doing this a second time was risking everything.

Boos from the audience sounded and a feeling came over you. A feeling of wanting to win. You had survived this long. The man who originally owned the gun smiled as you lost your nervous face and lifted the gun to your head.

You were reluctant to pull the trigger but a sound from the audience brought you back and you fired. You opened your eyes all the way and stared around you. The gun had been taken from your shaking hand and had been given to your opponent.

The man smiled and once again brought the gun to his head quickly. "I am always lucky…" he whispered the words and you barely understood them. Your heart began to beat fast as his finger pulled the trigger. A small smile spread on your face as the sound from the gun rang through the crowd.

"Not this time." You say watching the body fall. You had won. The gun was picked up and placed back onto the table. The victim's blood covered the hilt. You stared at the men who dragged the body out of the chamber.

Murmurs and silent awes echoed through the crowd followed by cheering. You had won the game. You got to go. You were free. Another bullet was placed in the chamber and it was spun. No one made a move to untie you.

"When you play, you play for keeps." The man said seeing your surprised expression. A smile was on his lips. He liked it. He enjoyed your desperation.

Another person was led into the room. A woman this time. Men from the crowd whistled as she was sat down in front of you. A smile was placed onto her red lips. She looked at the blood covered gun and a small giggle came from them.

"Ladies first." The man said handing her the revolver. She took it with her free hand and looked at you. A fire was in her eyes, she was going to win it said. You took a deep breath and watched her lift the gun to her temple. She lost her smile and began to shake.

Realization washed over her. People began to whisper and pure terror began to form on her face. The man looked at her with an eager grin. She looks at you for help but you don't give it. You carefully draw your hand to your own temple. The man looks at you with a hysterical smile.

You form a gun with your hand and smile a warm and deadly smile. She chokes on her breath and inches her finger towards the trigger. You move your hand in the motion of shooting a gun at the same time she fired. You looked away from the corpse. She had collapsed out of her chair and onto the floor.

You heard the audience begin to talk again. She was unlucky you thought. You felt small pity. It was different for the man; you felt it for the woman. The pity or sadness that came from knowing that you had been the cause; even if it was of no choice.

The man left with his revolver. Is he letting you out? Were finally going to go? He ignored you as he passed. Only two words left his mouth. _Stay alive._ You suck in a breath as he says this.

Another one is brought in as he left. You look at the man, no, you really couldn't call him a man, more of a boy. You could even call him a kid. He was smiling. Not a cynical or insane smile, but a pleasant almost cheery smile. They sit him down and try to remove his hat, but they tell them not to touch.

The man who had brought him in put revolver on the table. The kid stared at you with his go happy grin. You sigh and close your eyes. You waited for them to prepare the next game. The boy asked a question. You open one of your eyes and stare at the man who is holding the gun. He gestures for you to answer.

"Russian Roulette." You say calmly waiting for the boy's expression to change. It does, but to one of confusion. He had never heard of the game before. You sit back in your chair, not wanting to explain it to a boy who was probably going to die that day.

"They load a revolver with one bullet." You say it not really caring. "You spin the chambers till they stop." The boy was watching you with interest. "You lift it to your head and fire." Your words became calming. You were relaxing. "IF you don't get a bullet in your head, then you win."

"But one person must die." The boy said in a serious tone.

You look straight at him and nod. He stares at you and then at the gun. The man hands it to you and you take it. The boy watches you and you watch him. The fear that had covered you was gone. You were now determined. With a quick flick, you pull the trigger. You still were alive.

The boy watches as you hand the gun to the man. He takes it with an eager grin and quickly puts it to his head and fires. Fear never showed on his face, no hesitation. He ignores the man that had brought him to the chamber and hands the gun to you.

The boy was challenging you. He wanted to see how tough you were. He was challenging you to this game. You snatch it away from him and your determination came back even more. Pirates juggled with life and death all the time. This shouldn't be anything else.

You fire it and smile as nothing happened. You hand it to him and the boy does the same. No bullet has shot out. He hands it to you and the audience had begun to become restless. The match was getting exciting to them and their sick minds.

You look at the barrel and start to count. One: you will die. Two: there is nothing you can do about it. Three: so just pull the trigger.

Nothing.

Silence.

You open your eyes and see the boy smiling at you. He wasn't angry that you had won, nothing told you to pull the trigger again. The man goes closer to you. Trying t get the gun. The boy put his hand out, asking for the gun.

Why? Why was he so eager to shoot a bullet through his head? You look at the gun again and then back at the man. The crowd starts to become restless with the wait. Your hands begin to shake and the boy asks if you are alright. The corner of your eyes catches someone standing up.

You point the gun at the man ever so slowly. "Only one shot left." You say pulling the trigger. You look at the boy who was smiling happily. Not because you saved his life, but because you had finally shot the bullet.

You watch as he bends to easily undo hi buckles. You do the same and watch as people begin panic. Others had broken in. you stood where you were as other prisoners were released and running away. The viewers were panicking, running and trying to collect their winnings. Some tried to fight back.

You stayed where you were and continued to watch the kid. The boy smiled at you and then turned around. He walked up to a group around his age. That was his group.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants and walked to another group. Your group. They were waiting for you. You smiled as they patted you on the back and welcomed you back.

That was fun. That little game of roulette.

* * *

"Ne, Marco, look!" you look up at the guy who was saying your name. He was holding a wanted poster with a face of a grinning boy on it.

"This is my brother!" the man said showing a smile just like the boy's. You chuckle and looked at the sky. So he had been a pirate you thought.

"Let's meet again." You say to yourself. No one else could hear you for they were asking Ace questions about his brother. Though you were pretty sure Pops had heard you. "We can finish our final round of Russian Roulette."

* * *

Sorry I havent updated the other stories. This is the reason why adn the fact that my dad wanted pie. I have a few more chapter ready for the other stories, just gotta edit them. will have them up sometime tomorrow. 3


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